回答英语前沿第三⼗三届韩素⾳国际翻译⼤赛报名将⽌(附赛题原⽂)
第三⼗三届韩素⾳国际翻译⼤赛
报名及译⽂提交时间:2021年6⽉1⽇0时前
2021年第三⼗三届韩素⾳国际翻译⼤赛由中国翻译协会、北京第⼆外国语学院联合主办,《中国翻译》编辑部与北京第⼆外国语学院⾼级翻译学院联合承办。本届竞赛设⽴汉语与英语、法语、俄语、西班⽛语、阿拉伯语、德语、⽇语、韩语8个语种的双向互译,共计16个⽐赛项⽬,参赛者可任选⼀项或同时参加多项竞赛。欢迎海内外⼴⼤翻译爱好者参加竞赛。
参赛规则
1.参赛者年龄:18-45周岁(1976年1⽉1⽇—2003年1⽉1⽇之间出⽣,含1⽉1⽇)。
国庆 英语2.参赛译⽂须参赛者⾃主独⽴完成,杜绝抄袭现象,⼀经发现,将取消参赛资格。⾃公布竞赛原⽂⾄提交参赛译⽂截稿之⽇,参赛者请勿在任何媒体公布⾃⼰的参赛译⽂,否则将被取消参赛资格。
3.参赛流程:
(1)扫描下⾯的⼆维码即可报名,填写报名信息(每⼈每个组别只有⼀次报名机会,请务必确认信息正确)→⽀付报名费(30元)→报名成功,获得参赛资格。电⼦邮箱和微信收到“报名确认通知”(内含由数字或字母组成的10个字节
的“报名凭据”等)。
(2)⽹站在线提交参赛译⽂:报名成功后,请在2021年5⽉31⽇前登录中国翻译协会官⽹(www.tac-
online),点击相应的提交参赛译⽂链接。
填写姓名和报名凭据后,系统会在线显⽰微信报名信息,参赛者请根据提⽰在线提交相应组别的参赛译⽂。
4.参赛译⽂提交要求:
(1)译⽂内容与报名时选择的参赛组别须⼀致,不⼀致视为⽆效参赛译⽂。如:选择参赛组别为英译汉,提交译⽂内容若为汉译英,则视为⽆效译⽂。
(2)汉语与英语双向互译的参赛译⽂须将⽂字直接拷贝粘贴⾄提交译⽂的⽂本框内。
(3)其他语种参赛译⽂须为word⽂档.docx格式⽂件,⼤⼩不超过2M。
(4)⽂档内容只包含译⽂,请勿添加脚注、尾注、译者姓名、地址等任何个⼈信息,否则将被视为⽆效译⽂。
(5)2021年6⽉1⽇零时之前未提交参赛译⽂者,视为⾃动放弃参赛资格,组委会不再延期接受参赛译⽂。每项参赛译⽂⼀稿有效,不接收修改稿。风景区英文
(6)为避免5⽉31⽇服务器过度拥挤,请尽量提前提交参赛译⽂。
5.奖项设置:
(1)竞赛设⼀、⼆、三等奖和优秀奖若⼲名。⼀、⼆、三等奖将获得证书、奖⾦和纪念品等,优秀奖将获得证书和纪念品。《中国翻译》杂志和微信公众号等将公布竞赛结果。竞赛颁奖典礼将于2021年底举⾏,竞赛获奖者将获邀参加颁奖典礼。
(2)本届竞赛设“最佳组织奖”若⼲名,⾯向积极组织本单位⼈员参赛的单位(院系、⾼校或企事业)。获得最佳组织奖,⾸先需单位提交申请,组委会经过评审确定本届最佳组织奖获奖单位。最终解释权归⼤赛组委会。
“最佳组织奖”申请⽅式:
关注“中国翻译”微信号,输⼊“最佳组织奖”,出现报名表,填写信息,提交申请。申请截⽌⽇期2021年9⽉30⽇。获奖单位将获邀参加颁奖典礼。
请登录中国翻译协会官⽹或关注“中国翻译”微信公众号,了解本届竞赛最新动态。
部分赛题原⽂
汉译外试题
注:根据⼤赛所设项⽬,本汉语原⽂可被译为英语、法语、俄语、西班⽛语、阿拉伯语、德语、韩语、⽇语,参赛者可任选⼀项或多项。
vat
从春游到溺⽔
李润问我,如果幸福指数是⼀百分的话,你现在给⾃⼰的状态打多少分。我说,九⼗⼋。他⼤惊,怎么会这么⾼?我也有点诧异,怎么,你不幸福吗?他说,这个问题他问了好多⼈,多数⼈的回答都没超过⼋⼗分,不知为何我会有这么⾼的分数。
家人用英语怎么说我也有点奇怪,为什么会有这么多⼈感觉不幸福呢?我就问他,那你觉得哪⾥不幸福?他⼀时也答不出来,只是觉得好像并没有那么快乐。我突然明⽩了,原来很多⼈认为幸福就⼀定要天天快乐,这确实有些难。其实,对幸福过⾼的标准定义往往是造成不幸福的主要原因。
幸福的反义词是什么,是不幸吗?我觉得是⿇⽊。
当⼀个⼈对幸福的感知⼒越来越少的时候,就很难体会到幸福。在听《积极⼼理学》课程时,有个特别形象的观点让我记忆深刻,说是现在很多成年⼈对于幸福的追求分为两种:⼀种是溺⽔模式,就是认为只有解脱的那⼀刻才会幸福,在此之前都要忍受痛苦。⽐如,有些⼈认为,发财了就幸福了,找到⼀个爱⼈就幸福了,创业成功了就幸福了……⽽在实现此⽬标前,就是得忍耐痛苦的过程。另⼀种是春游模式,就是整个环节从过程到结果都是快乐的。就像我们童年听到春游的通知会开⼼得跳起,会回到家快乐地做准备,然后坐上⼤巴愉快地和同学们聊天,到了⽬的地后的每⼀刻也都⼗⾜兴奋,整个过程都充满着幸福的感觉。我们成年后,很难再有这种感觉,慢慢地从春游模式变成了溺⽔模式,其实就是对于幸福的感知⼒开始变弱。
英译汉在线翻译器
也许是我接触的病患太多,见识了太多的苦难,所以我对⾃⼰拥有的格外珍惜和知⾜。
⼤家⽆法想象,对于⼀个眼睛看不见的⼈来说,拥有⼀双健康的眼睛是多么幸福的事情;对于⼀个因为贫穷⽆钱医治疾病的⼈来说,⼀万块钱是多么重要。这些道理很多⼈都懂,但我真真切切地接触到了他们,所以我经常觉得⽼天给予我的⾜够多:能每天睁开眼看到天空,可以住在⼀个⽆须忍受暑寒的房⼦,可以步⾏⾛到地铁站,可以有⼀份稳定的⼯作……这些都让我⾮常感恩。
我相信⼈与⼈、⼈与世间万物之间有⼀种超越语⾔和⾏为的联结,如果能⽤⼀种正念的思想与世间相
处,⼈就会收到相应正念的回馈。过去的已经过去,未来也是不确定的,我能拥有的只有此时此刻。感受⼀枚树叶从空中飘落,飘飞出漂亮的弧线,感受⼀枚橘⼦瓣在⼝中爆裂,清甜的滋味蕴藏着⼤⾃然的馈赠,这种微⼩的幸福都是值得珍惜和体会的。当我⽤这种⼼态去⽣活时,我会觉得每时每刻都有种充实的幸福感。
不把某种⽬标当作幸福的唯⼀砝码,⽽是⽤⼀种正念的⼼态去⾯对当下,⽤乐观的⼼态去构建未来,这种⼈往往⽆论取得什么结果,内⼼都是幸福的。⽐如天赐⽗⼦和薇薇母⼥,他们能时刻地感知到⽣活中的美好和善意,所以他们对看似绝望的未来依然⼼怀乐观。直到现在,即便天赐和薇薇都全盲了,我仍然能感受到他们⾝上那种幸福和乐观的⽓息。所以幸福不是外部给予,⽽是内⼼发起,从内⼼涌出来的对现状的满⾜。学会知⾜是⼀种思想境界,如果能⾝体⼒⾏地去帮助⼀些境况不如⾃⼰的⼈,这种付出往往也是⼀种回馈。因为对⽐,更能珍惜⾃⼰所拥有的;因为付出,更能体会到⾃⼰的价值:这何尝不是⼀种幸福呢。
英译汉试题
THE DEEPESTHUMAN LIFE
We had the sky, up there, all speckledwith stars, and we ud to lay on our backs and look up at them, and
We had the sky, up there, all speckledwith stars, and we ud to lay on our backs and look up at them, and discussabout whether they was made, or only just happened—Jim allowed they was made,but I allowed they happened; I judged it would have took too long to make somany. Jim said the moon could a laid them; well, that looked kind ofreasonable, so I didn’t say nothing against it, becau I’ve en a frog laymost as many, so of cour it could be done. We ud to watch the stars thatfell too, and e them streak down. Jim allowed they’d got spoiled and was hoveout of the nest.
An ever-growing number of people havetheir view of the sky obstructed by the light pollution of our cities. Some goyears without once gawking at the moon or the stars. It’s an apt metaphor ofour whole human situation. There’s a haunting line by Kabir, the mysteriousfifteenth-century Indian poet, a kind of mystical Mother Goo: “They squander their birth in isms.” He’s thinking of the few major religious traditions of hisday, but the idea applies even more poignantly to our collection of religions,political affiliations, spiritualities, identities fabricated by marketers, andeven theories constructed in philosophy departments. The glow of the beliefs,at their best, can guide us through life. But they often amount to a kind oflight pollution. The feeling of posssing knowledge can be the worst enemy ofthe truth. Beliefs and theories, and the identities associated with them, areas indispensable and fascinating as politics, but they are, from theperspective of true philosophy, at wor
st impediments and at best starting andstopping points of a much larger journey, which involves going off into thedarkness once in a while and taking a good long look at what shines above us.
The story I have to tell is about how,in the words of William James, “the deepest human life is everywhere.”Thecoordinates of a meaningful life —the stars, in my analogy—are there for any ofus to e and puzzle out. The questions, stories, and injunctions of the greatphilosophers aren’t the speeches of angels loafing in their celestial abodes.Even the most formidable thinkers speak to us out of lives pretty much like ourown, with their daily routines, their little aches and pains and pleasures, andtheir occasional upheavals. Their feet have no more wings than yours or mine.
A little over a decade later, I was finishing a PhD in philosophy at Emory University. The obviouspath before me was to drift into a full-time position at a decent institution,work my disrtation into a book, zero in on a specialty, publish some articlesand reviews, and lick the necessary wingtips to get tenure. But some n ofdestiny (I would have never called it that then) kept me from ever taking sucha path riously. Though I’d proven mylf capable of publishing articles andgiving papers in the world of philosophy, I rebelled against the prospect of amicro specialty and the bureaucracy of tenure. Moreover, I hadn’t gotten intophilosophy in order to become a scholar of philosophy, however wonderful and necessary the work of scholarship can be.
When my mother called me from Iowa saying that she’d read in the local classifieds that Kirkwood Community College had a fulltime philosophy position open, itemed a reasonable way toget health insurance. The saying “a job is a job”is particularly poignant forphilosophers. Diogenes of Sinope, one of our profession’s early practitioners,ud to beg money from statues. When asked why, he replied, “In order to getud to being refud.” But he didn’t have a pregnant wife. And neither my wifenor I really wanted to live in a barrel and relieve ourlves outside, as wereDiogenes’s customs.
Another decade later, my wife and twokids were sound asleep upstairs, and I was alone in the lva oscura (the “darkwood,” a phra from Dante’s Comedy ,which to someone with as little Italian as me initially looks like the “obscurelf”), staring at the fire in our stove’s belly, reflecting on the question ofmy destiny: exactly the activity I preach to my students, exactly the activity I’d been avoiding as assiduously as they do. You e, earlier that night, someone at adinner party had had thegall to ask me, “Are you fulfilling your destiny?” Therude question was partially my fault. I’d brought up the subject of destiny,inspired by my recent perusal of the Mahabharata ,the gargantuan Sanskrit epic of ancient India (it’s about three times as longas the Bible), which narrates the fratricidal war between the Pandavas and theKauravas. To talk abstractly about destiny may be boring or fascinating, but tobe asked if you’re fulfilling your destiny has an archer’s precision inpierci
ng to the heart of the matter. I’d hemmed and hawed, wiggling out of anhonest answer like only someone trained in philosophy can do. But now, beforethe fire, I had only mylf to confront.
My initial moro thoughts were that Ishould be doing more with my talents. As much as I loved teaching at acommunity college, it was, after all, a community college. Friends of mine atmore prestigious institutions, my family, even some of my students, had all proddedme, with various degrees of subtlety, to work on advancing my academic career:a path my choices in life had esntially made vanish. My dark thoughtswandered—though maybe that’s thewrong verb—to a story from the Mahabharata , the very story that had provoked the bewildering question of my destiny after I’d told it at the dinnerparty.
A certain Ekalavya, a member of the mostdespid outcaste tribe, asks to study archery with the great guru Drona.Arjuna, the hero ofthe Bhagavad Gita (oneshort chapter of the Mahabharata ),becomes through Drona’s tutelage
Drona.Arjuna, the hero ofthe Bhagavad Gita (oneshort chapter of the Mahabharata ),becomes through Drona’s tutelage the greatest archer in the world. But Drona disdainfully turns down Ekalavya, despite his considerable talents becauthe smelly prence of an outcaste would upt t
he other students. So, Ekalavyagoes off to a cluded place in the woods and carves a little sculpture ofDrona, which he ts up as an idol to overe his solitary practice with bowand arrow.
One day Arjuna is out hunting. His dogruns off into the woods and starts yipping at the outcaste archer, who getsirritated and nds off a volley of arrows so expertly that without causinginjury they instantaneously plug the dog’s mouth. The dog runs back to his master,who looks in awe at the gagged beast. Arjuna then sulks back to Drona andwhines, “You told me you’d make me the greatest archer in the world.” “And Ihave,” the teacher responds. Arjuna points dejectedly at his pet, obviously thework of someone greater.
Drona and Arjuna head back to thewoods to find out what’s going on. They discover and watch in amazement thelone archer practicing with his carved idol of the great teacher. Finally,Drona goes up to him and asks, “Am I your teacher?”The archer bows deeply,honoredby the guru’s prence, and says, “Of cour you are.” In India at thetime it was customary that teachers weren’t paid until after they’d successfully taught their students;but after graduation they could ask for any fee they saw fit. So, the teachersays, “Your abilities prove that you have graduated, and now I ask for mypayment.” Even more deeply honored, the student says, “Whatever you ask,teacher.” To which Drona responds, “I ask for your right thumb.”Ekalavya takesout his knife, unhesitatingly chops off his right t
humb, and gives it to theteacher, who then turns to Arjuna and says,“There, now you’re the greatestarcher in the world.”What’s the story of Ekalavya about? A teacher who choosthe elite over the common. A student who offers the teacher a fulfillment ofhis calling. The possibilities of participating in the highest economy ofeducation. The psychological blockages that prevent such participation. Thebrutal tragedy caud by the stupid divisions we draw. The story, it emed,fragmented into two clear images: the possible me and the real me. I’d chonto teach Ekalavya, but something in me was clinging to the prejudices of Drona.
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